


Light in the Darkness

by Lord Commander (Kosho)



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Companions, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, Fights, Vampires, Werewolves, mods
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-15 00:09:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7197134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kosho/pseuds/Lord%20Commander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Dragonborn has been born to unique circumstances, kept to herself for the most part, she struggles to find a point of balance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First attempt at a Skyrim fic, still working out a lot of details. 
> 
> -This story will likely involve a lot of mods, such as housing, followers, etc. Probably will draw heavily on the Skyrim romance mod as well. Character is also using a customized body.

She hunched over the table, staring out the window. It hadn’t been long since the events at Helgen and the subsequent discovery that she was Dragonborn. As if she needed another reason to keep busy these days, it was hard enough to avoid getting too close to others when people were drawn to her as they were. The reasons were always a challenge to guess, some wanted her dead, nothing to do with her elven heritage, others for that particular motivator. The biggest reason was something she scarcely wanted to admit to even herself.

“Ez, are you zoning out again?” a voice called to her.

Glancing over her shoulder, she sighed. It was out of loneliness that she had accepted an offer to join the Companions. Nothing to do with knowing what they were about, she wasn’t even of these unforgiving lands, her home far off in Valenwood. With her, the challenge was always finding balance, between staving off those uncomfortable feelings of needing to be around _someone_ , and not letting anyone too close. Back from a recent mission, she swore only to stay long enough to rest her legs, but that hadn’t gone as planned.

“A little, I apologize…” she mumbled.

Vilkas crossed his arms, his head tilted thoughtfully to the side, and for a moment, her heart raced, pallid eyes fixed intently on his throat. Thankfully, it seemed none had caught on so far, and her appearance likely had much to do with that. Not pale, as one might expect someone of her ‘affliction’ to be, her skin permanently tinted the delicious golden color that came with living a life in warmer climes, and eyes that led some to assume she was blind, though in fact, she could see just fine, long, deep crimson hair, tinged with black, held high in a ponytail, stray locks framing her face. Esmina always wore armor or robes that left no clue as to her shape, a solution that, while it left many curious about what she _could_ be hiding, it was often enough to leave none curious enough to bother. This close, though, the temptation was far harder to resist, discreetly inhaling in his scent, she sighed to herself. It was a tease, not the musky scent that mingled with the smells of the outer world, but the layer underneath, something she could scarcely find the words to describe to anyone unlike her.

“You’ve not touched your dinner. Are you feeling well?” he asked, a hint of actual concern in his tone.

“I’m starving.” She replied honestly.

Her eyes grazed his throat once more, the slight, nearly unnoticed jump of his pulse attracting her attention, though she forced herself to focus on the plate in front of her. How long had it been since actual food had appealed to her? Had it ever? No longer able to recall it in her mind, she gave up the effort, slowly reaching for a bit of bread, almost tasteless to her now.

Apparently satisfied that she was no longer distracted, he took a seat next to her, and she tensed. There were so many secrets in her life, and she would happily divulge every last one if it had some bearing on her situation. Her eyes squeezed shut for a moment, settling on a passing attempt at conversation that might take her mind off.

“Will you go out again tonight?” she wondered.

“I will. Do you want to join me?” he replied, a friendly offer.

“Not tonight. I’m leaving for Riverwood soon, looking into a lead I received.” She said.

“Good luck with that.” He said.

Politely excusing herself as quickly as she could without drawing suspicion, she headed for the door. In truth, she had no business matters in Riverwood, and in fact, she wanted to check out the other holds, but now that she said she would, it would be best to go, in case anyone decided to verify her story. If nothing else, there were bandits all over, surely one wouldn’t resist picking a fight, and that was a different matter entirely. The one high point of being the most wanted woman in Skyrim. Exiting out the hold’s gates, she frowned, scanning the area in silence, though she could see nothing, there was an inexplicable sense that someone was indeed watching her, the hair raising on the back of her neck. Not the first time she had such a feeling, only that whenever she tried to identify the source, there was nothing to be seen, no scents she could discern, no hints of any kind.

If it hadn’t been for how quickly she was able to move, she’d have left much earlier, confident in her ability to reach the tavern before the sun rose, intending to stay only until it was dark once more and she could travel safely.

* * *

 

Too close for comfort, she had reached the door mere moments before the sun had begun to rise, pushing her way in. Hearing the sounds of people still awake, she hastened her steps to the counter, dropping a small pile of coins in front of the innkeep, currently washing out a mug.

“Name?” he asked idly.

“Lilinette Esmina Willowpool. Need a room for the night.” She said.

“On the right.” He told her.

Esmina hurried to the room, closing the door quickly and quietly behind her, falling into the bed with a groan, tugging the covers over her head. Camping outdoors was more familiar, though she had left in such a hurry that packing a tent and a bedroll had never occurred to her, and strangely, the rooms of this inn had no windows, a fact which suited her just fine. It had been days since she had last fed, and it was wearing her out, her strength waning slightly as a result, but her sense of morality made it impossible to do such a thing when it involved anyone who had done her no wrong. Consciouness drifting away from her, she turned, her face buried in the pillow, slumber easily claiming her away from her thoughts, enough that she failed entirely to notice the quiet creaking of the door…


	2. The Wolf at her Back

Esmina stared down at the cages, just outside of a cave. Bishop said this was where they were keeping his wolf, and she was kicking herself now, having agreed to his request without a second thought, a fact he hadn’t let her live down.

_“Really? Just like that? You wake up with a strange man in your room, and you don’t even give it a second thought, you just agree? What if I was trying to trick you? I could take advantage of you, I could be leading you out to some empty place to kill you, and that never crossed your mind?” he had questioned._

_“If you wanted to do any of those things, would it not have been easier to do while I was sleeping? I would think whether the goal was murder or sex, you could have done so with less struggle. I’ve given it as much thought as I needed to.” She replied._

Perhaps it was a mistake, now that she had a moment to really think it over. He was attractive, and dangerous, facts that were, by themselves, no problem. It wasn’t that he could overpower her with ease, even outside of her current weakened state, and it had nothing to do with the appealing way he smelled, or the way he spoke to her, as if she wasn’t important at all, or the way he snuck glances at her when he thought she wasn’t looking. No, it had everything to do with how close he was, close enough to feel the heat rising off his body, and that, in her mind, was too close for anyone to be. Granted he had no way of knowing what he was doing to her, or how dangerous this was for him, the thing that kept her from attacking on impulse, like some mindless creature was the nature of the mission he had asked.

Clear out the bandits, rescue his wolf. She had a list of reasons prepared in case she ever needed a quick excuse to be left alone, and she imagined it wouldn’t be difficult to convince him to go on ahead for a bit. Sighing to herself, she readied her blade, shaking her head. Her proficiencies were deeply rooted in magic, in destruction and illusion, more than most might know given her largely secretive past, and yet she learned quickly that surviving here without drawing suspicion meant learning to wield other weapons, and the sword was the one she had the most fondness for.

“There’s an opening. If we go now we gain the upper hand and catch them off guard. I can go in alone if you prefer? Small army or not, I’m not worried.” She whispered quietly.

“Pssh. I’m not letting you have all the fun.” He told her.

Climbing down quietly, they snuck in, one guard at the door, too relaxed as though he didn’t anticipate any trouble, her blade quickly found itself all the way through his chest with one quick movement, his screams drawing alerted shouts further in.

“Hold them off for me, doll.” He said, kneeling in front of the cage.

Esmina rolled her eyes, a frustrated sigh emphasizing her annoyance at the overly familiar term. Turning through the tunnel, she stood in the center, despite her stature, she would at least make it a challenge to pass her. The group of bandits rushed her, swinging furiously in response until a surprise attack cut into her arm, her eyes fixated on the blood flowing warmly down her arm. At that point, she could no longer control herself, readily accepting that she might even have to fend off her new acquaintance. Her hand reached out, clenched tightly around the neck of one who had tried to take advantage of her lack of guarding. Yanking him closer, she inhaled deeply along his neck, he smelled awful, sweaty and dirty, almost sour, but she needed this. Her mouth parted and she sank her teeth in deeply, shuddering when the warmth rolled along her tongue, her eyes sliding shut.

The sound of arrows volleying around her and the rumbling growl of the now freed wolf raced past her, though her returning strength left her uncaring of the danger. It was as though she were racing to beat a record, draining him in a matter of moments, leaving a withered husk slumped on the floor. Her wrist brushed across her lips, a pleased groan escaping before she heard Bishop speak again.

“Lucky for you I’m good with my hands. Couldn’t wait until you finished _all_ of them off?” he snorted.

It was good that he hadn’t said anything more. Even at her best, the two of them could well have killed her with ease still.

“Guessing the Sabre cat is out of the bag…what now?” she asked

Bishop shrugged, his hand sweeping through his hair, her eyes following the movement out of habit.

“Lady, let me tell you one thing. You’re not as sneaky as you think, if you thought I couldn’t tell. For starters, setting camp at the ass crack of dawn? Not many worry about travelling by day, but you? I bet you burn right up at the faintest peek of sunlight, don’t you?” he chuckled.

Dangerous was her initial assessment, a man almost as feral as the wolf at his side. More so now, dangerous _and_ perceptive, a thought that both terrified and thrilled her. Esmina had met many people in her travels, some she chanced association with, none who had never known her secret, this was something new to her, someone who knew and didn’t seem to be bothered by it. She turned her head, spitting to the side, her face twisting in disgust, nodding to the entrance.

“You got your companion back, I say we get out of here. I need to wash away this stench…” she sighed.

Bishop let her lead the way, opting against saying anything, and that was actually strange. She had, over the last week of travel to get here, gotten used to his remarks, and she wondered if the sight of her in action had actually left him speechless, or if it had changed the dynamic between them somehow.

“If you’re worried, I have no plans to eat you, I have more restraint than that.” She assured him, sweeping a hand through her bangs.

“A shame I can’t say the same.” He said.

It took her a moment to realize what he was implying, a thought that made her cheeks glow brightly. He laughed, grinning in a way that reinforced her impression of a wolf in her mind. He took a step closer, his hand sweeping along her back for a moment, so close his breath rolled along her neck, gusting against her ear, a sensation that was foreign, enough to make her shiver slightly.

“Well, that’s something I _didn’t_ expect. You’ve never been with a man, have you? The thought of it is still embarrassing and shameful to you, isn’t it?” he breathed.

Her eyes slid shut for a moment, fighting the urge to pull away.

“Unless you plan on volunteering, I would imagine we should leave that out of matters.” She insisted, pulling away.

Bishop laughed again, and she had a feeling he was teasing her after all.

“So what’s the deal, are you going back to Riverwood?” she asked finally.

His hand swept along her ponytail, not immediately responding.

“Eager to get rid of me? I thought I’d tag along with you, someone has to be around to watch your back. And what a back it is…” he said.

Esmina shook her head, giving in for a moment. “I don’t mind your company; you can stick around as long as you choose. I won’t stop you.”


	3. The Elven Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is turning out to be a challenge. >

Esmina took a seat, the floor of the cave was cold, and unpleasant, but it was better than burning up. Bishop had instructed her to wait here, said he’d be back, and for whatever reason, she did as he said. He could leave, might never come back, but even with no reason, she believed he’d return. She searched nearby, finding a pile of broken wooden crates, arranging them into a composed pile in the one dry spot she could find. Waving her hand over it, a fire roared to life, turning her palm up, she blew cool air on it, sighing to herself, a slight ache in her hand as a result. A cruel joke that the magic she was most proficient in also hurt her a little, but considering who had his hand in her existence, ‘joke’ might be too light of a word. She could hear noises outside of the cave, but dismissed them since it didn’t sound like anything was coming her way, not that she was concerned either way. If someone came after her, she could defend herself just fine, and had until this point, though more and more she was glad for the company. Closing her eyes for just a moment, she must have dozed off, a hand shaking her awake after who could say how long.

“Come on out. I got you something you might like…” Bishop said.

She shook her head, frowning, a moment of panic touching her expression, he said he knew what she was, and now he was trying to get her outside? Bishop sighed at her reluctance, bending down, he gripped her waist, hefting her gracelessly over his shoulder, knowing she wouldn’t come willingly. She struggled, as he expected she might, trying to squirm out of his grip, though it was far stronger than she anticipated. Her nails scraped at his back, the thick leather of his armor making it pointless. Far more embarrassing than that was the way his palm grazed her backside, brushing against her slightly in his efforts to keep her secured. Bracing for the unbearable scorching of the sun, she held her arms over her face as they neared the exit. Still bright out, he moved quicker, her eyes squeezed shut, unable to tell what he was doing or where he was leading her, Esmina barely registered the sudden darkness, slowly, nervously opening her eyes as he set her down.

“You actually thought I’d let you burn? I had thought maybe this time together was enough for you to know better.” He sighed, rolling his eyes.

A tent, complete with bedrolls, was that where he had gone? It was more thought than she had imagined he would offer her.

“This was the business you had to take care of?” she asked curiously.

“Is that surprise, or concern, princess?” he asked.

“There’s two beds, there’s no concern, just wondering why you would go to the trouble.” she said with a shrug.

He fell silent for a time, stretching out lazily, turning on his side to face her after a bit of readjusting, his eyes fixed on hers, almost uncomfortable how effortlessly he held the contact, unflinching, not looking elsewhere, just on her.

“I do still owe you for helping me out.” He said simply.

Esmina made no move to lie down quite yet, looking away nervously, truthfully unsure how to respond, it wasn’t though she had a lot of experience being around someone for any meaningful length of time, as such, the intricacies of interactions were lost on her, her hand brushing through her hair in a small effort to regain her lost composure. Bishop chuckled to himself, shaking his head in amusement, and it only added to her confusion, finally moving to recline, if only slightly.

“What do you find so funny?” she huffed quietly.

“Dragonborn. Feared by some, respected by others. I have yet to see what makes you so intimidating, to me you look more like a frightened little girl.” Bishop said.

He made a move towards her, crawling to her side in a way that brought the image of a wild beast about to go for the kill, one quick movement, and he was on her, staring down at her, and for the life of her, she couldn’t tell _when_ he had done it, it had happened too fast. Bishop dipped his head down, hovering over her lips, so close she could feel the warmth of his breath, her heart racing at the sudden close contact.

“Afraid I’m going to hurt you? Or is it less fear and more…excited?” he teased.

His hand rested on her side, slowly brushing along the curve of her hip, before he moved away, shrugging it off as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. He said nothing, and she realized he was waiting for an actual answer, to which she could think of no dignified response.

“I’m not afraid of you.” She lied.

The idea of anyone at all getting so close to her made her nervous, her impulses untested in such situations. In truth, it wasn’t a total lie, she had no concerns of him hurting her, more the other way around. He was enjoyable company, even when he was making fun of her, and it worried her that she might not be able to control herself, might not be able to resist, and it bothered her that it didn’t seem to cross his mind.

Before she had a chance to question it further, more voices were heard outside, one in particular that made her sit upright, quickly rising to her knees, heading for the tent flaps, though she halted, knowing the sun was nowhere near setting. It was possible it was precisely who she imagined it might be, the voice far too familiar to be coincidence, she waited, trying to learn what she could of the situation.

“This one is a good investment, well worth the price.” A man said.

“You let me out and none of you will see tomorrow.” Another said, his voice quiet, rough.

Esmina turned, rifling through her bag then, reaching for a set of dark robes, unconcerned with Bishop at the moment, she quickly peeled off her clothes, tugging on the fresh clothes, grabbing some gloves, drawing the hood up. Without saying a word to him, she ran out before he could stop her, and he grumbled under his breath, moving to follow.

“That fool is going to get herself killed…” he sighed.

Moving to stand, he rounded the tent, surprised at what he saw. The bodies of three guards, dropped, but he could see no marks, not for hunting. She swore under her breath, trying to pry open a lock, and his eyes fell on the man in the cage. Tall, muscular, with hair down to his hips, black, and from what he could see, elven, like her. The lock finally fell away, and he stepped out, reaching for her. Bishop rushed in before he knew what he was doing, pushing his hand to the side before he could touch her, concerned he might do something.

“Keep your hands to yourself, or you’ll lose them.” He threatened.

“Lili, who is this?” he questioned.

Her lips parted as if she were about to speak, though it seemed she had forgotten how, a puzzled look on her face as she glanced to him, unsure what to say on the matter. Friend? That was certainly the word she would use to describe him, but being inexperienced with these things, she couldn’t say with any certainty that he felt the same of her.

“She’s mine, that’s all you need to know. Who are you?” he asked.

His? When did that happen? What did that even mean, they hadn’t so much as kissed, a fact she was glad for, the temptation would surely be too strong. Of course, he could be saying that simply as a means of protecting her somehow.

“I am Lili’s guardian. I was instructed to watch over her and do what I must to ensure her safety.” He clarified.

“Well…you’ve done a fine job, haven’t you? First I’ve heard of you, and last I checked, _I_ was the one keeping her safe. Really, great job.” He spat.

“I would never have left her side were it not for the dragon. I snuck into Helgen to rescue her, and in the confusion, she got away from me, and there was no trail to follow.” he said.

“Got caught though. Can’t be all that good.” He muttered.

Looking down at him, he grinned. “That sounds like jealousy. Worried that another man has shown up, and that I might steal her from you while you sleep? Or did you fail to notice she’s put herself at risk to free me, shouldn’t that tell you enough?”

Bishop bristled with anger, he was right, she was vulnerable out here, even with the precautions she took, and it bothered him that she wasn’t saying anything on the matter. Not a lover, at least, not yet, he had definitely been correct in his assessment that she had never been with a man, the way she reacted to him was enough to make him certain of that.

“I’m not jealous. I have no reason to be.” He told him, reaching for her hand.

Esmina looked to him as he grabbed it, gently guiding her back towards the tent. “If we’re going to continue this, the courteous thing to do would be to make sure she’s not in danger, don’t you think?’


	4. Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bishop and Esmina's Elven 'guardian' are forced to wait for her to return from business elsewhere, settling on a bit of conversation to pass the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought this might be a good way to add in some information and establish that they have spoken a fair amount in travelling that isn't covered in the story.

Esmina had led them back to Whiterun, and from there, she left with a man neither could say they knew. Companion business, was the only explanation she offered as she left, instructing them to stay behind and wait for her. Bishop eyed the elven man across from him suspiciously, trying to figure him out before a single word had been uttered between them. The one thing he was certain they could agree upon being that she was certainly at great risk, alone, with a man who she barely knew, again, because someone had imposed on her naïve generosity. The main reason he had done as she asked and waited alongside the other man was that he had offered to pay for the drinks.

“What, did you get your allowance?” Bishop questioned.

“Most wouldn’t care how they got it, only that it’s free. Though if you must pry, Lili gave me a pouch of coins when we came into town.” He said, leaning back slightly in his seat.

“Haha. Paid you like a tavern wench, and what did you do for that coin?” he taunted.

“You _are_ jealous, aren’t you? You want so badly to know how and why I know her? I do what needs to be done. I said ‘guardian’, but in truth, ‘handler’ is probably a more accurate description.” He said.

“She’s more than capable of dealing with things on her own, what could she possibly need a handler for?” he grunted, taking a drink.

“You know what she is. I can tell. I was tasked with watching over her, whatever that entailed, just last year, as a matter of fact. A nameday gift, you might say. I’ve killed for her, I’ve fed her, and more than that, I’m the reason she’s gone undiscovered until now.” He sighed.

“Suppose you don’t even have a name worth mentioning. I haven’t heard her address you as anything but ‘he’, but now that you mention it, getting someone as a gift is a little bit odd, don’t you think?” he wondered.

“King. No. I don’t find it odd, it shows how little you truly know about her. I’m going to do you a favor, but only because I think she’s fond of you, though if you so much as hint that I told you _anything_ , I will rend you to scraps and leave you for the bears.” He threatened.

King, that was a pretentious name, and he imagined it wasn’t even his real name, but some self-important alias he gave himself. That he was being so open felt like a trap, reasonably certain she’d probably even tell him if he cared enough to ask her about it. He might even lie about it for the sake of making him seem like an idiot, almost convinced he didn’t care at all. She had said enough, and he had overheard some, he could test his answers to what he already knew of her from the passing conversations they had while travelling.

“The girl, what’s her name?” he asked.

King’s mouth twitched slightly, pulling into a slight grin. He was no fool, he knew he was testing him, wondering how he might react when he learned his offer was indeed serious.

“Lilinette Esmina Willowpool. Thought I’d lie about her? She doesn’t need me to keep her whole life secret, only the one aspect.” He shrugged.

Bishop glanced away, focusing on his drink. In truth, there was a small sense of satisfaction at the prospect of _her_ telling him the things he most wanted to know, but he couldn’t care less about the menial details, like where she was from or what she did before she got here. He already knew much of that anyway, and he hadn’t needed to ask, she had volunteered it to him. Lili Willowpool, formerly of Reaper’s March, a huntress of the night, a magic wielder, recently eighteen, he even knew details of her childhood he could imagine no one would ever think to ask about. The girl was far too open, and much too caring, had it been him in her place, he wouldn’t lift a finger for most of the people she bothered with.

“You know, _if_ by some miracle, she doesn’t kill you, and instead decides to keep you around, it isn’t me you should worry about. It’s everyone else. Creatures like her, they have a certain… _allure_ that they have no control over, men, women, few can escape it’s pull. Or had you not noticed how everyone she meets seems to be more than a little interested in her? Maybe you can’t tell. I could be giving you far too much credit.” King explained.

“I told you, she’s already mine, whether she knows it or not. You don’t realize it’s everyone else who should worry about me.” He said, draining his ale, reaching for another.

King chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “You really know so little. She’s no object you can own, and if she were, it would not be you laying claim. Those in the shadows have torn scraps of her for themselves before she was even born, and long after she’s forgotten you, they won’t let go so easily. You might have a chance; I’ll give you that.”

“You expect me to believe that you’ve never considered it, not even once?” he asked, his brows drawn suspiciously.

“Not even once. I’ve had the privilege of preparing her vestments, I’ve seen every inch of her several times over, I am not remotely interested in her in such a way. On the contrary, I take my pleasures elsewhere, she has the funds to do as she wills largely because of my…gifts.” He told him.

“Just another person bowing to lick her boots, you’re no different from every other loser in these lands. I’d like to see her ask me to do anything, I’m my own man, I do what I choose and nothing more.” He insisted.

He muffled a laugh against the back of his hand. “Keep telling yourself that. One day, she’ll have you wrapped around her finger too. You say I’m the same as everyone else like you’re any different. Besides, I would think you’d be more concerned with what she’s doing alone in the wilds with that pup.” He paused, in truth, enjoying the back and forth between them, surprised at just how well he was doing at resisting the bait. His expression had changed so little, eyes narrowed, continuing on while also managing to monitor everything else around them, all signs that he was, at the very least, as good as he had professed at his chosen job. “Care to make a wager? What should it be? Will she return alone, or…ooh, more to your liking, will she return intact?”

He already knew the answers to both, she’d resist her urges, if only just barely, and with little interest in being close to others for long, she wouldn’t have anything to do with a physical situation of that sort. He’d be waiting for her if she needed him, part of his duties being to make sure she had no reason to attack anyone she didn’t want to. Those pulling her strings had left him to her on purpose, gifted with all he needed to keep her hunger sated, without fear of turning or death.

“I’m not betting on outcomes we both know. That man can’t handle someone like her, and she’s too overcome with this crazy need to make everyone her personal cause. It’s pathetic, is what it is, why would anyone willingly risk their life for the sake of some asshole who can’t do their own work.” Bishop snorted.

“She’ll be back soon enough; the sun will be up in a few hours. We only need to be civil until then, and if you like, we can continue as rivals, if you wish.” King offered.

“You’re no rival of mine. You’ve said you’re not interested, and there’s nothing about you that threatens me personally, but I still don’t like you.” He stated.

“Odd, I like you just fine. You’re so determined, I almost want to root for you, but alas, I can’t. I’m sworn to keep her out of dangerous situations, and that includes keeping you out of her.” He said with a smirk.


	5. The Sudden Test

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip to the inn culminates in a moment Esmina didn't expect.

Esmina had returned in one collective piece, and the two had resumed following her, all the way back to Jorrvaskr. She followed to the back and they stood a comfortable distance away, watching the events unfolding as they welcomed her as a true Companion.

Bishop draped his hand over his mouth in an effort to be quiet about his comment. “Did you notice there’s two of them?”

King tilted his head to the side, taking a closer look at the odd group. “Ah. You’re right, two flea bitten dogs. I was looking at her.”

He gestured to the red haired woman among the group, her face marked with paint, her dress an odd mix of loose and almost form fitting. Bishop gave him a look of disapproval, shrugging a single shoulder as he looked away.

“You have horrible taste in women. It all makes sense now.” He muttered.

King watched as they disbanded their gathering, fidgeting in silent objection as the two they had taken note of walked just a little too close, staring just a little too long, debating with himself if he should step in or not. Elsine fractured away, noticing them, she approached, actually smiling, but only just barely.

“That was nice. I can’t recall many times when I could feel at ease enough to enjoy myself.” She said, tugging her hood a little higher, adjusting her gloves.

“Yes, why do you look so pleased? What happened?” King asked.

“I found others almost like me. That’s all I’ll say.” She whispered, in case any were listening.

Esmina turned to King, scraping at her skin through her robes, the barest hint of skin exposed enough to make her itch horribly, eager to get somewhere safer. King frowned a little, gesturing in the general direction of the tavern, aiming to find a room for the day. She took off ahead, nearly fast enough to draw suspicion, slowing her pace just a bit, even though it would only hurt her further. They caught up, and King took out a few coins, grabbing a table at the back, waiting for the drinks to arrive. A woman neither new had taken to trying to chat up Bishop, though he resisted her advances, trying to get her to leave him alone. King muffled a laugh, his shoulders shaking slightly with the silenced sound, a strange sight.

“I’d help him, but I don’t want to.” He said quietly.

She couldn’t say why, but there was a knot in the pit of her stomach while she watched him, standing quickly, she announced, perhaps louder than she meant to. “I’m going to bed now! Good night.”

Rising up, she strode purposefully towards the room, slamming the door though she knew it probably attracted unnecessary attention. King had initially meant to follow him, but the drinks arrived, close enough to the door to notice trouble. When the woman turned away for a moment, Bishop snuck away as quickly and quietly as he could, closing the door behind him. Now that he was out of the way, he didn’t mind chatting her up, kicking out a chair behind her.

“Have a seat, keep me company.” He offered with a grin.

The woman obliged, reaching for a bottle of mead on the table, grinning at him. Bishop sat down, leaning against the wall, turning his attention to her only long enough to make sure she was actually there.

“What’s the matter, did your lady friend leave?” she asked, staring at the ceiling.

“That woman was a pain, the one time I’m glad for your ‘handler’.” He admitted. “What about you? Didn’t bother to invite the mutts over?”

Esmina looked confused, unable to _not_ turn her gaze to him, the question so bizarre to her that she had nothing planned to say, making it up as she went.

“Why, because you think I need a light snack?” she asked, the only thing that seemed to make sense.

He couldn’t resist, laughing at her ignorance, or was it actually innocent? Doubtful that a blood sucker could be innocent at all, but if she actually thought he was suggesting that, it was too funny.

“Yes, princess, that’s exactly what I meant.” He teased.

It took a moment to realize he wasn’t serious, turning her back to him in a huff. He thought it was hilarious, wondering if he could actually get under her skin a little more.

“So which one do you like more, the dimwit or the one with the girly hair?” he chuckled.

She rolled over, a blur as she moved towards him, close enough to stare him down. He had succeeded, she was clearly upset, though now that she was here, it seemed she had no idea how to follow through, pallid eyes looking less fierce by the second and more hopelessly lost.

“The dumb one, I think that’s the one you prefer.” He taunted.

Her brows angled down, eyes alight with a fire he hadn’t seen from her quite yet, her hand reaching to grip his shoulder tightly, trying to express her displeasure in some way, words failing, her lips silently moving as though she were trying to think of a single coherent thing to say.

“You…” she began, managing only the one word.

Reaching out, his hand snaked into the back of her hair, pulling her closer, his lips finding hers with ease. Her other hand grabbed for his other shoulder, nails digging in angrily, torn between pushing him away and stunned submission, unable to move, though he eventually broke away with a smirk.

“You do have a bit of spirit in you after all…” he laughed.

Esmina quickly retreated to her bedroll, her back to him once more, trying to maintain her anger, quickly vanishing. It was unusual for her, her fear of getting close had led her to believe that something like that was a terrible idea. Certainly, had she ever gotten physical with someone else like that, it wouldn’t end well, surely it would incite an insatiable hunger in her. It made here mind go completely blank, and even more, nothing bad had happened, no time to consider it further as King walked in, laying between the two of them, purposely taking the middle bedroll. He glanced between the two for an instant, drawing his conclusions immediately.

“You pissed her off, didn’t you?” he asked.

Bishop turned away from him, laughing quietly under his breath. Funny that her pet had failed to stop him that time, for someone so insistent he wouldn’t let anything happen to her.

“Oh, she certainly put me in my place.” He said, skillfully concealing his sarcasm.


End file.
